


see me glowing

by sarcasticfishes



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: (OT4), F/M, Intimacy, Touching, body painting, mentions of polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24447511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/pseuds/sarcasticfishes
Summary: “I was thinking about painting,” Sara says, locking her phone and setting it down on the floor. “You wanna be my canvas?”Ryan looks up again, and there’s a glimmer in his eye. “So is this…sexypainting?”
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Sara Rubin
Comments: 28
Kudos: 63





	see me glowing

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks are due to Alex ♡ for [a little inspo here](https://deathfrisbeeinthetardis.tumblr.com/post/619401068646973440/bruwho-jadetunchy).

The idea comes to Sara as she browses idly through her Pinterest feed, almost scrolling right past a picture of a model, sitting nude on a stool in a white room. She’s pale, with long dark hair pulled over her shoulder to expose her back, which is painted with a forest scene, black paint for the sky, and the negative space of her skin as the trees. A human canvas.

Sara’s never really been a fan of painting. She likes the control that comes with pencils, how easy it is to erase or pinpoint a detail. No matter how steady her hands were, she could never recreate that with a paintbrush, no matter how hard she tried. But something about this picture, this delicate model, piques her interest.

When she looks up from her phone, it’s Ryan she’s looking at; he’s sitting on the other end of the couch, his legs stretched out towards her, every once in awhile nudging her knee with his foot affectionately.

It’s been a quiet evening, just the two of them together while Shane and Mari are out on an evening together. It’s been raining unseasonably all afternoon, and she spares a moment to wonder what they’re getting up to, before Ryan lifts his gaze and cocks his head at her, curiously. She’s been staring. Daydreaming.

“You okay?” he asks, and presses his toes against her again, the delicate inside of her knee this time. Sara smiles at him, nodding.

“My mind was wandering,” she says, by way of explanation — not that she needs to explain away her staring.

“Somewhere fun, I hope,” Ryan smirks, looking down at his phone in his hand, his other arm bent behind his head, relaxed.

“I was thinking about painting,” she says, locking her phone and setting it down on the floor. “You wanna be my canvas?”

Ryan looks up again, and there’s a glimmer in his eye. The smirk is ever-present.

“So is this… sexy painting?” he asks, and Sara snorts, rolling her eyes at him.

“Must you make everything dirty?”

“I must,” Ryan grins, leaning forward and reaching out for her; Sara lets him grab onto her hand, curling his fingers around hers. “What were you thinking?”

Sara shrugs a shoulder; she hadn’t really thought of a plan. It was little more than an idle thought. 

“Dunno,” she shrugs. “Maybe you could lie down, let me paint on your back? It might be relaxing.”

Ryan looks intrigued. “I do like when you draw on my back,” he says, his voice suddenly soft and reverent, and Sara thinks of the way he often drops right off to sleep when she traces over his back with her fingertips. “What paints would you use?”

They don’t have body paints here in the apartment, but maybe it’s something Sara could look into. For right now acrylic is out of the question, dries too stiff and crackly. Oil is a non-contender, difficult to remove. Maybe—

“Gouache?” Sara muses aloud, and Ryan pretends to understand, nodding attentively. “It’ll wash right off in the shower, so that might be a good option. Something water-based.”

“I trust your knowledge,” Ryan says. “Where do you want me?”

They end up moving the coffee table out of the way and laying down a sheet over the rug. Sara rummages in the office for a clean paint palette, which takes longer than finding the actual paints she wants. When she returns to the living room, she finds Ryan kneeling in the center of the sheet, hands in his lap, shirt on the floor. She has to stop for a moment just to appreciate the image, commit it to memory. There’s almost something vulnerable about him, waiting so patiently like this.

“Get comfy,” she tells him, with a wink, and Ryan takes an old throw pillow he’d fished out of the closet, tucking it under himself to lay down on the floor. 

Sara busies herself for a few minutes while Ryan gets comfortable. She has her palette and paints, a couple of brushes, some water and a rag to clean off her brushes. She has her canvas, ready and waiting.

Ryan miraculously doesn’t make a sly comment when she straddles his waist, sitting back against him. He’s gone quiet and relaxed at the mere thought of this activity, and Sara makes a mental note of it, pleased by his response.

“I don’t have a plan for this,” she says, soft-spoken, “I’m just gonna wing it. Tell me if you need to get up and stretch.”

“I’m good,” Ryan says, eyes closing, and with that Sara begins to paint.

She starts by mixing a deep bottle blue, something to contrast and compliment Ryan’s summer tan. He looks as though he’d be warm to the touch if she pressed her palms to him.

The paint must be cold because Ryan stifles a gasp, some kind of breathy noise, when she first touches the brush to his skin and draws a smooth blue wave up and over his back.

“See? Not so bad,” Sara says, more to herself than anything, but Ryan hums in response and she can feel it through his body into her own.

For a long time, they’re quiet, just breathing together. Sara paints, more and more blues of different tones, dabs of white like foam over warm, brown skin. If she didn’t know better, if she hadn’t already seen him wear each color of the rainbow, she’d say blue was his color. She already knows he’s gorgeous in every color.

Blue bleeds into green and turquoise, into blue again, waves and waves. Ryan breathes quietly under her, goosebumps lining his arms. They don’t go unnoticed by Sara.

“What’re you painting?” Ryan asks her, eventually, voice slurred and sleepy. Sara doesn’t know how much time has passed, but the light is fading. It’s stopped raining, but the air feels heavy and wet, like a storm is rolling in.

“Think, Hokusai meets Van Gogh,” she says, and Ryan’s mouth twitch into a smile because they’re references he understands. It’s something he can try to visualize.

“Feels nice,” he mumbles, and Sara takes a moment to run her fingers down the length of his arms. She starts at his shoulders, squeezing his biceps, trailing all the way down to circle his wrists. Ryan shivers, as sensitive as always. 

He loves to be touched.

“I’m nearly done,” she warns him. Ryan makes a quiet, disappointed noise, and Sara can’t hold back her smile. “Can I take a picture?”

“F’course,” Ryan says, muffled by the pillow. “I wanna see.”

Sara takes a few more minutes to add details and texture but, honestly, it’s just an excuse to give Ryan a few more moments of attention. Eventually, she climbs to her feet with a little groan, stretching out her legs, arching her back and shaking the stiffness out. Ryan stays on the floor, content, as Sara reaches for her phone to take pictures of the ocean scene she’s painted on him, crashing and circling waves, turquoise and navy and jade.

“I actually like how this turned out,” Sara says, and Ryan turns his head a little to regard her. “Wanna see?”

Instead of making him get up, she kneels down to his level to show him the pictures, and Ryan holds onto his pillow, breathing slow and soft.

“S’beautiful, Sara,” he says. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Helps to have a workable canvas,” Sara says, impish. Ryan smirks, huffing a laugh through his nose.

“Workable,” he mutters.

“As comfy and blissed out as you look from all that attention, this paint probably isn’t great for your skin. We should probably get you in the shower, hmm?”

Ryan looks momentarily despairing at the thought of moving, but his expression changes abruptly as Sara’s words register with him. Sara could laugh, if she wanted to break this gentle atmosphere they’ve created together.

“We?” he smiles, hopeful.

“Well, you’re hardly going to wash all this off by yourself?” Sara teases, running her fingertip down Ryan’s cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. 

“I could use a rubdown,” Ryan says, that roguish tone returning to his voice as he looks up at her with wide dark eyes, and Sara can’t even find it in herself to berate him. He really does take every opportunity to say something dirty, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it just a little bit.

Ryan leads her into the bathroom and holds her as they wait for the water to heat up. 

Sara tucks her chin over his shoulder, bringing her hands up around his back, feeling the way the muscles roll like waves.

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully this has kicked me out of my writing funk :')


End file.
